As a child, my family and I spent part of our winters and summers with Grandma Sara and Grandpa Jack (my mom’s folks) at their home in Windsor Gardens near Denver, Colorado. I have wonderful memories of them. At night, Grandma Sara used to tuck me into the roll out bed and tickle my forehead with her beautifully manicured nails while singing lullabies as I drifted off into slumber. I loved watching Grandpa Jack clean his dentures and shave with his electric razor, pretending to do the same while watching him. I stood there, transfixed, as he splashed Lilac Vegetal on his face after he finished shaving. My grandparents doted on us and loved my brother, sister and me. We loved them right back. Our vacations with them were great. We left their home, full, loved and happy.
There’s a special relationship between grandparents and grandchildren. What is it? My father jokes that the bond is there because each has a common enemy. I love being the parent now and watching my 2 ½ year old son interact with his grandparents. He lights up every time my husband or I mention any of them.
It’s amusing. Some grandparents want to be called specific names. My dad wanted to be called Papa, but The Littlest E calls him Bubba. Somehow our son came up with the name Mamama for my mom. She’s called Grandma by her other grandchildren, and my stepfather has been deemed Poppy. I don’t think any of my folks care what they’re called; they’re all happy my husband and I have a child. My in-laws are Grandpa and Nana. The Littlest E has a play phone and frequently calls his grandparents to say “Hi” and ask them “You okay?” The love emanating from those pretend calls warm my heart.
When we brought The Littlest E home from Ethiopia, it was of utmost importance to establish attachment as soon as possible. Only my husband and I, and the grandparents were allowed to hold our son those first couple of months we were home. This was to ensure that our son would know my husband and I were his “go to” people and not be confused. We spaced out the grandparent visits so as to not overwhelm our new son. And let me tell you, it’s difficult to describe in words the wondrousness of those first visits, especially for my father-in-law. He has step-grandchildren whom he loves, but The Littlest E is his first (and probably only) grandson.
Both of my parents live in Northern California and we are able to visit more frequently with them, than with my in-laws who live in Washington State; however, The Littlest E Skypes with his grandparents fairly often. Whenever we’re near the computer he’ll ask to “kype” with one of them. Whether it’s an in person visit, or a Skype chat the grandparents give The Littlest E their undivided attention, waiting to hear what he says or does next. It’s the best.
My mom visited us recently and had a terrific time spending time with my brother’s kids who are 12 and 9, and our son. The Littlest E showed Mamama his toys; they played together, joked together, read together. He has a mini kitchen set out on our patio and he cooked for her. They had good, quality visits, and she doted on him. I asked my mom about the bond she has with her grandchildren and she said it’s like having all the benefits of being a parent without the responsibility. She said it’s pure joy. The Littlest E’s Mamama participates in his life, but she is not the parent, which, in some ways, allows her more freedom for lack of a better word.
I watched the two of them together and they were both fully in the present, each completely involved with the other. It’s total and absolute devotion. My in-laws are the same. I see the joy in each grandparent when they’ve spent any amount of time with our son, the amazement at his growth and development and at witnessing the unfolding of his personality and character. What is this special bond between grandparents and grandchildren? It’s unconditional love.
Image: cantaloupe99
